Moments Spent in Bliss and Wonder
by Sierra-Jae
Summary: 'Come and go as you please, but stay with me always.'
1. Chapter 1

Emma stood before her wardrobe in her matching bra and panties set, shuffling neatly through the folded cardigans in the drawer in search of the dark polyester cardigan that felt so comforting on her skin. It was her favourite, the only one that matched her Juicy Couture Pear Print skirt. Sure, she had other cardigans that complemented the green fruit prints, but the cardigan was lovely and now missing from its place between her navy cardigan and her white summery tops. Where the hell was it?

It was that Thursday morning, as she yanked open draws and slammed cupboard doors in frustration, when Emma realised that she had uncharacteristically left her black cardigan hanging neatly over the armrest of Will's couch on Tuesday evening.

It had been hours after her lips had rested on his jaw as they whispered goodbye that he had called her, apologising that he had filled another box of vests for charity. Knowing that he had sold his old car the week before to afford New York accommodation for the next six weeks, Emma finished dinner and made her way over to Will's.

He was in the car park of his apartment block when Emma's headlights illuminated his form. She smiled softly at the forlorn look etched across Will's features, his eyes increasingly distant as she parked her car and greeted him.

He was shy, like a young boy who was about to ask his sweetheart to prom, and Emma found herself making much of the conversation as they attempted, for the second time in six hours, a final goodbye.

She followed Will upstairs to get the box, commenting how lovely the fire was and removing her cardigan and placing it over the armrest of his couch. Will offered Emma coffee, which she accepted, and Emma realised when she got home later that night that there were only two vests in the large box. It hadn't been necessary for her to drive eight streets over to Will's, but it had been desired.

Emma had held the back door open for Will on Tuesday night, after they had conversed over coffee, as he slid the slightly smaller box of vests across the backseat of her car.

His hands had dangled irritably at his sides as Emma lectured about the New York City crime rate as tears threatened to fall from her eyes.

"Emma," Will had whispered when she turned to get into her car, grasping her hand in his before her back met the side door of her car and his lips were on hers.

She had never been kissed like that. Her lips parted further than they ever had before, and rather than Will's lips pressing into hers, his warm mouth almost covered hers completely. Her body flushed, her mind ran away from her, and his tongue slid wetly against hers.

Emma attempted to push the kiss from her mind as orange rays of sunlight beamed through her bedroom window, highlighting the backs of her naked thighs as she stood wondering what to wear. She pictured the cardigan there, on the edge of Will's couch, just waiting for her to drive over and pick it up.

She could go to Will's house and pick it up before school. She didn't have any appointments before ten. No one would ever know. Will was six hundred miles away in New York City with the glee club, and they wouldn't be back without him until Sunday night.

She sighed when she turned the key in the lock of Will's front door at nine that morning, remembering a moment made at the opposite time of day, when she cooked a perfect meal for Will and imagined what it would be like to be his wife. Still, that image was tainted. She had prepared the meal in the apron she found hanging on the hook at the back of the kitchen door- Terri's apron. At the time, she had pushed the thought aside, too wrapped up in the feeling that came with being Will's girlfriend. Now, that feeling was gone, and any hope of it returning had relocated interstate.

When Emma stepped into Will's apartment, a deep sense of nostalgia washed over her. The living room was cold, the room bare but for the furniture.

The cardigan was gone.

She stood for a moment in confusion, attempting to recall the place she left it two nights ago. It was right there, before Will had offered her coffee. She had bared her arms to him and whispered without voice, 'Ask me to stay for a little while longer.'

The pictures of Terri were gone from the ledge of the fireplace, and Emma was a tiny bit relieved. Will had had the sense to move them when they were dating, but when Emma dropped off some papers for Will to sign for school three months ago, they were back up.

For a moment, Emma stopped searching the living room for her cardigan and considered how a portrait of herself and Will would look upon the mantel piece. Her red hair would match the rose trim of the wood.

Emma ceased her exploration of Will's home and closed the front door behind her, as though she had never been there.

Stuffing Will's key into the inner pocket of her coat, Emma left for the day and headed to school.

Carl called at seven o'clock on Saturday night, informing Emma that he had a number of her boxes of books to drop off that they had packed up in preparation for moving into the tract house. Apparently, the small boxes had been taking up too much room in Carl's large basement.

Emma promised that she'd be home all night and Carl told her that he would be around after eight to hand her the last of her things. But when seven forty-eight ticked by, Emma threw her arms into the sleeves of her coat, locked the condo door and started the engine of her car.

She was halfway to the city centre when she realised that her purse was at home, with her license. As the good citizen she was, she pulled into the next street and stopped, intending to call a cab to drive her home.

Before she realised she was without her mobile, she recognised the street name. Will's street. She had his key in her coat pocket. She could wait there until it was okay to call a cab from Will's phone and go home, until Carl wouldn't be there and she wouldn't have to deal with the humiliation of being a failure of a wife. No one would know. It would only be a few hours.

Grabbing a book from the backseat of her car, she made her way up the steps of the apartment block and to Apartment no 3B. Locking the door behind her, she breathed a sigh of relief. She was safe.

The living room was cold, and not wanting to start a fire or really knowing how to, Emma stepped into Will's bedroom and turned the air conditioner on, a warm breeze escaping from the vents and heating Emma's cold body.

There was Will's bed, before her very eyes. So many memories were made on that bed. Well, one in reality. One thousand in her dreams.

The bed was unmade, a bare mattress, so it wasn't an invasion of privacy when she found herself sitting on the edge and opening her book as eight-thirty ticked by. At nine, Emma's shoes were on the floorboards and her legs were folded beneath her pencil skirt as her elbow dug into the mattress. At ten, Emma was asleep with the closed book next to her nose.

When Emma arrived home on Sunday morning, making the walk of shame across the footpath of her condo dressed in the same clothes she had left the house wearing the night before, she expected to find a cardboard box full of books in the doorway. Instead, Emma found a post-it slipped under her front door.

In Carl's handwriting it read,

_I returned your key to you the day we signed the papers. _

_I'll try to bring the books back tomorrow night._

_I really hope you're home, Emma. _

Carl's use of syntax was what made her walk inside, grab a change of clothes, a nightgown and a few toiletries, and close the front door behind her again.

Emma had filled a cart with groceries before lunch time, and she felt accomplished as she pushed her avoidance of Carl from her mind. Picking at different types of berries in the fruit market, Emma decided that, when she got home to Will's apartment, she would make raspberry muffins in his kitchen.

Emma stocked the fridge with juice and his cupboards with flour.

She spent the day at Will's, cleaning his bathroom, washing his windows and baking. By five pm, there were fifty-eight cookies and sixty-two raspberry muffins gracing the kitchen counter.

As the sun went down and Emma's body arched in exhaustion, she thought about how she had invaded Will's home. More distracting though, was the thought of Carl coming over again. Before she logically planned out what it was that she was doing, Emma was dressing Will's bed with cream sheets she found in the linen cupboard and fluffing a duvet she had reached for in the craft room.

Emma settled into bed after dinner, as thought sitting up in Will's bed with a book in her comfortable, warm, yet unflattering nightgown was the most natural thing in the world.

She heard a noise minutes after she had turned off all the lights and relaxed under the glow of the bedside lamp. It was only nine pm. Too early for burglars. It was probably the neighbour in the next apartment, Emma assured herself. Probably a couple. They were probably doing 'couple' things. Like having sex.

When Will stepped into the apartment, the first thing he noticed wasn't the gold Mary Janes on the welcome mat, or the dull light streaming from under his bedroom door.

Instead, Will realised that his apartment smelled delicious- like cupcakes and chocolate chip cookies.

"Emma?"

"_Jesus Christ!" _

She had wacked herself in the face with her open novel before she had time to cry out in fright.

Will flicked on the light by the door and Emma was out of bed and into her robe before Will could close his opened mouth. His mind registered two pieces of information. The redhead had been sleeping in his bed. The mattress would still be warm from her body heat.

He was not expecting to come home to this. If he had known, he would have been on the earliest flight out of JFK.

Emma's mind raced as her face flushed and her fingers fumbled nervously with the tie on her robe.

Oh God. What the hell was she going to tell Will? That she couldn't sleep in her own home because she was trying to avoid the man who had asked her for an annulment?

"Will, gosh! I'm so sorry." She was more mortified than apologetic. "I had no idea you'd be home so soon."

"It's okay, Em. Relax." Will chuckled as Emma ran a hand through her messy red hair.

"What happened, Em?"

"I...umm...", and the lie fell from her lips before she could stop it. "I've been evicted from my apartment."

AN: This is the introductory chapter of what I intend to be a five part series, so it's quite short compared to the rest. Let me know what you think!

I've also decided to spend some time once a week filling a prompt from a reader. You can drop your prompt in the ask box of my fanfic tumblr and I'll pick one to fill when I can. You can find the link to my fanfic tumblr on my profile. And it doesn't have to be a Wemma prompt either! But it does have to be an Emma prompt, regardless of who she is shipped with. I won't discriminate against any pairing!

Thanks so much for reading and I hope you enjoy 'Moments Spent in Bliss and Wonder'!


	2. Chapter 2

"Look, it's okay. You can just stay here until you find a place to stay. It's not like you're going to be any trouble, Em."

She smiled shyly and her cheeks flushed. She was sitting in Will's kitchen at ten o'clock at night, in her ugly nightgown, and he wasn't fazed in the slightest. In fact, he appeared hesitantly hopeful, as Emma predicted he would as he waited for the judges to announce the winner of sectionals. And regionals. And nationals. She already fell like she had missed out on too much. Moments wasted they could never relive.

Her dainty fingers curled around the empty mug in her hand. If only she could read the tea leaves left at the bottom, to see her future and find a way to make it happen sooner rather than later.

She looked up at Will, feasting on his second muffin. He looked tired, jetlagged. Yet, he had only flown for less than two hours. Was it the flight, or something else weighing on his mind? Either way, his jaw worked mechanically as he consumed her muffin as though he hadn't eaten in days. He looked starved. For what, though?

"So did you win?" Emma questioned, her eyes wide and optimistic.

"Huh?" he responded, reaching for a cookie before he could swallow the last mouthful of muffin. Emma felt a blush of pride flush her skin. He liked her baking. She wondered what other hunger Emma could satisfy. It was there, and starving for attention. If only she had the experience to hand the desire what it craved. She'd hand it over on a silver platter.

"Nationals. Did you win Nationals?"

Will sighed deeply and then drew in another breath. "No. Rachel kissed Finn on stage."

Emma raised an eyebrow. "The judges didn't like that?"

Will chuckled. "I don't think anyone really liked it except Finn and Rachel."

"I'm sorry, Will." Emma rested a hand on Will's clothed forearm, her thumb tracing circles into the white material before she realised what she was doing and slowly retracted her delicate fingers without Will noticing. "You worked so hard."

Will picked at the tiny chocolate chips of his cookie with tired fingers and raised his eyes to meet Emma's. "Hey, at least we got to see New York." The sweet smile that accompanied his words included his own New York City romance that he knew wasn't even comparable to his Lima love gazing at him bashfully, her eyelids hooded with an emotion he couldn't quite place his finger on. It was a hint.

Emma was about to ask the question that had been weighing on her mind, threatening to escape from her lips, _Why aren't you on Broadway, Will, _but Will jumped in first.

"Where's all your stuff?"Will mumbled with his mouth full, and before she could cringe, Emma noticed the cookie crumbs resting on his bottom lip. Emma's inner slut ached to lick them off, while inner artist admired his perfectly sculpted flesh.

"It's umm...most of it is at Carl's." It wasn't a lie. He still had some of her boxes. Just not _most_ of them.

"He's minding it for you?"

"Uhuh." Will raised his eyebrows at Emma's response as her gaze fixated on tracing the rim of her tea cup. Her tea cup from home, which she'd also brought along.

"I only moved back into my condo a few weeks ago, after the annulment," Emma explained truthfully. At least part of the whole story wasn't a lie. "So I've only taken a few things home." Emma looked up at Will, her eyes clouded over with embarrassment. Here was a man who had so much experience. He was smooth and sexy and confident, and he was well aware of the fact that she hadn't had sex with her dentist husband. She'd never had sex, period. "We aren't really on speaking terms for me to just go over and pick everything up."

The truth was, when Emma had moved back into her condo, that very day she had a moving truck pick up all of her things, to spare her the trouble of seeing Carl again. For a week she had spent lonely nights in tears and that had inevitably resulted in bright red air bags under her eyes that persisted for the week. Carl couldn't see her like that. He'd examine the puffiness beneath her makeup. He was a doctor with an accurate eye for these things. Well, not a real doctor. Still, she wouldn't let him see her tears of confusion to add to her list of failures.

Will was quick to shake his head in puzzlement, his eyes squinting as he tried to piece everything together. "Wait, you moved back to your condo? When did you move out?"

Emma appeared aged as she recounted the story, remembered herself in a happier time with Carl when she had been swept up by romance and blinded to the fact that inside, she was desperately confused and in love with another man who she would gladly share her bed with. "We umm...I moved in with him after Vegas. Into his house."

Will's face paled in devastation. "You never said anything." Perhaps a home life with Emma was better than sex with Emma. Concealed by his graphic late night fantasies of Officer Pillsbury, French maid Emma and Doctor Pillsbury, was the image of Emma brushing her teeth by at his basin, removing her makeup as she lectured about the local bed bugs 'epidemic', and sipping tea at his kitchen table as his bare foot tickled hers.

"You never asked." Emma's comment wasn't vindictive, but Will instantly felt cruel. He had been selfish, barely enquired about her life when it was too hard. She had suffered the same pain when he was married. She was stronger. Perhaps she had experienced more than Will perceived.

Yet, there was a ray of hope as the questioned popped into Will's mind. "You kept your condo, though?"

The moonlight complimented Will's spark of optimism as it glowed through Will's kitchen window and upon Emma's red hair.

"Carl wanted me to sell it; he figured that somehow it was holding me back. But its home." Emma shrugged. Then she coughed, saving her own skin. "Well, until yesterday."

Will nodded.

"Do you want me to go and pick the rest of your stuff up from Carl's?"

Emma's eyes widened in terror. "No, no! I mean, thank you. But no. I can do it myself."

Will smiled warmly, without pity, and purely the greatest amount of understanding that he could muster. "Okay, just let me know if you change your mind, Em."

Emma returned his smile and bashfully retraced her wide-eyed stare of gratitude from his. "It's late, you're probably really tired."

Will sighed again, and taking a look at his exhausted features, Emma decided it was best to not ask Will why he was home so early.

"I'll just go and get my clothes from your room, and I'll take the couch."

Will gulped at the thought Emma Pillsbury had undressed in his house. In his room. Had she used his shower? _Oh God._

"No, no, Em." She turned around and blinked at Will curiously.

"You take the bed and I'll take the couch..."

Emma shook her head wildly, blushing at her own stupidity. Eight blocks over, her own bed was empty and waiting for her.

"Emma, please. I'm not going to have you sleeping on the couch. You take the bed."

Emma smiled softly, accepting Will's kindness and looking forward to resting between his sheets and inhaling his scent without the pressure of his naked body beside hers. "Okay."

"Oh, Em?"

Emma turned back to Will, her eyebrows raised slightly and her pools of brown radiating glee.

"Do you think that we could carpool to school tomorrow morning?"

Emma assured Will that carpooling was the least she could do. She would do so much more for him, as he would for her.

Shutting the bedroom door behind her, switching off the lights and climbing into Will's bed made Emma feel absolutely ridiculous. She'd have to tell Will at some point.

In the morning. She'd tell him in the morning.

Emma was making Will's bed the next day before they both left for school, preparing herself with a mental prep talk. She'd just come right out and say it. He wouldn't judge her. He'd probably laugh it off. It would all be okay.

"Knock, knock." Will pushed the door open slightly to find Emma fluffing the pillow.

"I heard you bustling about in here and I was wondering if it would be okay if I could unpack quickly before we leave?" Will asked politely, flashing a lopsided grin at Emma, standing there with her already perfect hair and a bright outfit. The pink skirt and orange floral blouse was a change from the nightgown she had been wearing the night before. For a lonely moment on the couch the night before, Will had imagined what it would have been like to rip it off her.

He wanted to unpack, Emma reiterated to herself while her heart soared. _Ahhh_, a man who could _really_ take care of himself.

"Of course you can, Will. It's your home."

Will winked at Emma as he placed the suitcase on the neatly made bed, making Emma cringe slightly.

She was straightening the edges of the duvet when Will spoke up.

"I got you something in New York."

When his fingers brushed against her neck as he clasped the necklace, Emma shivered. A silver chain held a witches hat, the size of Emma's finger nail, against her sternum.

"There. Now you're a little bit 'Wicked'." Emma's face flashed the colour of her hair and inner slut pointed out that she always had been. His whisper in her ear was warm, and she wanted it all over her skin.

He was so good to her.

She had to tell him before this went too far. She couldn't handle dishonesty.

"Will, I-

His hands were subtly hiding material under a towel in his bag. Dark material. Navy polyester that felt amazing on Emma's skin. Almost as good as Will's sweet hands would, inner romantic added. Not nearly as good as his wet tongue, inner slut suggested.

"Is that my cardigan?"

Will appeared to be caught red handed, his eyes lighting up as he swallowed deeply.

"What?"

"My cardigan. The one you just shoved under your towel."

"Oh, so it is!" Will was beet red. "I didn't even notice."

"You must have accidentally taken it to New York with you," Emma prompted, craning her neck slightly to see his expression, hidden partially in his unpacked bag.

Will scoffed with a laugh, looking down to hide his embarrassment at the obviousness of the situation.

"Yep, must have."

He was keeping something from Emma, too. He'd stolen her cardigan along with her heart, and now she was bared to him.

What she was doing wasn't technically wrong. If she left now and went back to her apartment, they'd settle into their old routine, watching each other from a distance at school and never working through their problems. _Lust. Desire. Love._

In the confined space of a Will's apartment, they'd be forced to test the waters. At _some_ point, anyway.

No, she'd give them some more time.

"I noticed that you stocked the fridge..." Will commented as he poured himself a coffee.

While Will had unpacked, Emma had made breakfast. It was nice to cook for somebody else, to share a meal with someone. As she flipped the pancake in the fry pan, she looked down to admire the tiny silver hat against her freckled skin.

"No...I didn't, I just...It was just food I had in my cupboards. And my fridge..."

Emma placed a plate of pancakes down on the table for Will.

"Aren't you having any?"

Emma nodded her head and looked at the time. They still had an hour before school started. "I have soy milk, so I can't cook them in the same pan or they'll be contaminated by dairy."

Will nodded, glancing at the clock and appreciating the fact that they had more time to spend together. "I guess it worked out pretty well then that I came home to find you here! I would have gone hungry!"

Emma smiled to herself as she flipped her own pancake in the pan.

"Mmm, Emma." She flushed at the dramatic sounds he made as he devoured her pancakes. "These taste amazing."

She grinned again and a comfortable silence fell upon them.

"I have to make a presentation after school today at the meeting," Will told Emma, flicking through the paper he had picked up before he boarded the plane the night before. He hadn't had a chance to read it while chaperoning twelve glee clubbers.

"Really? I thought it was just an ordinary head of faculty meeting when I saw it on the notice board with your name," Emma mused as she sat down across from Will to eat her breakfast. "You know, ordinary. Figgins introduces Sue, Sue introduces her plans to cut the glee club's budget and restore it to her own because she wasted hers on an industrial strength vacuum cleaner."

"Why did she buy an industrial strength vacuum cleaner?"Will asked, leaning across to take one of Emma's pancakes. He couldn't even taste the soy milk. They were pretty good. He could get used to this.

"Last week when you were away she claimed there were bed bugs in her office."

Will's faced scrunched up in confusion, allowing Emma to adore the dimple in his chin.

"How would bed bugs get in her office?"

Emma appeared contemplative, her gaze resting on the tree outside the window.

"They found Jacob Ben Israel in there alone after hours..."

"In that case, I don't blame Sue."

Emma giggled. "So your presentation?"

"Right- the other Glee coaches from Western Ohio are visiting. I've been asked as the representative of the winning team of the district to introduce the new guidelines for travelling interstate with a Glee Club. Not that they will need any guidelines for Nationals next year. Rachel's already got a killer set list planned."

When they were finished breakfast and had cleaned the kitchen together, Will took his plate to the sink where Emma was finishing clearing up. She didn't see it coming, but when his lips fell on her soft cheek in a quick kiss of gratitude, her breath hitched. It was as if they did this every morning.

"Thanks Em."

Will grabbed two raspberry muffins and a cookie before he left to start Emma's car.

"Long day?"

Emma stepped into Will's classroom after five-thirty. She had waited for the other glee coaches to leave before she made her presence known, interrupting Will as he pried his choking away from his throat. A loose knot and an undone button. Perfect.

Will looked up at Emma from his chair and stopped shuffling through the folders on his desk.

"Em, you shouldn't have waited for me...I could have walked home."

Emma shook her head softly, a sweet smile forming on her pink lips. "It's no trouble, Will. I was listening to your presentation, anyway. It was great. You made them all jealous."

Will looked concerned, his intention to frighten them away from the high stake competition apparent in his fallen features.

Emma was quick to take back her words. "Very boring, though. I'm sure no teacher in their right mind wants to take a glee club to a big city now anyway. You scarred them off. They were jealous of your well behaved kids. Not the chance to see the big apple. I mean..."

Emma trailed off at Will's grin and they both laughed shyly. Emma straightened the phone on his desk, estimating an equal border of wood between the top and side of the receiver.

Will's features contorted in a smirk, which Emma examined when she quickly looked up to meet his gaze before it fell back to the phone on the desk. She was doing it again, being obsessive. And Will was watching her, the way her eyes brightened as the result of such a small accomplishment. The way her pink tongue slowly peeked out in concentration. The twitch of the corner of her lips in tiredness of caring.

"I'm getting better," Emma whispered, her gaze focused on the receiver, as though she were having a private conversation to the person on the other end of the phone line. "It's just that sometimes, I like to...indulge. My therapist says it's normal."

Will craned his neck to catch her gaze, and after a moment of thought and consideration of her own words, she gave him her attention.

"No, I wasn't smiling about that," Will assured Emma, the smile fading as truth sunk into his words. "I would never joke about your OCD."

Emma's eyes focused completely on Will's, utterly grateful for his sugar-laced words.

Will's stare was so intense that Emma struggled to find her thoughts, place her feet back on the ground of the same room she had danced for him in, her sweet voice belting out the risqué lyrics of a cult classic.

"Why were you smiling?" she demanded innocently.

"Nothing, it's just...Never mind."

"No, now you have me curious. What is it?"

Will licked his lips. "Well, last time we were alone in here, you certainly weren't worried about the angle of the phone on the desk. Well, you were, but you were more interested in ridding the table of all objects that made angles."

Emma swallowed harshly. She could feel her limbs lose feeling slightly and she knew, _just knew_, that the freckles on her cheeks were dusted upon a bright red canvas.

She began to stutter. "M-My therapist says that when I relax and focus on other things my OCD tends to, how would you say," Emma gestured to the air as she refused to settle her gaze on Will's, "...evaporate."

Will raised an eyebrow, making her sweat, and leant against his desk, the muscles of his now folded arms flexing.

"Does your therapist recommend that you focus on these distractions that relax you more frequently?"

"Yes."

Emma drew in a deep breath, a spark low in her abdomen lighting as Will watched her carefully. That feeling, a certain pressure in her belly, had been bothering her tremendously the last few weeks. Especially around Will. Or thinking about Will. It must be anxiety induced, Emma mused. She'd have to speak to her therapist about that.

"Maybe we should have you join the glee club then." Will smiled, packing his folders into his bag and dropping the conversation as he cleared up the desk.

Emma mentally weighed up her singing ability, comparing it to Rachel Berry's. She'd need years of practice to ever sing well enough to be of the standard Will taught.

"I think I'd need private lessons."

Will spun around, his eyes wide, and Emma realised how her innocent response had been taken to be of another meaning.

The intense stare bore into Emma's heated flesh once more, and she felt her chest heave with want and confusion.

"I think you would, too."

Emma's heart was pounding and her head screamed to tell him that wasn't what she meant. But _god_, he was looking at her with the look that scared her. Her entire body flushed, from hairline to her toes.

"Will..."she whispered in what sounded like a pant. And that's all he could think about- her panting in his ear as they writhed upon his bed sheets. Fast. Hard.

"Yeah?" his voice was husky.

"We should probably go now."

"Right."

He turned out the lights and Emma stopped in the door way as he fished for his keys in his messenger bag.

"It was the same cardigan..."she muttered quietly in thought.

"Huh?"

"The cardigan you took with you to New York. I was wearing the same cardigan that night...when we sang together. When I sang." Emma paused, and Will stepped beside her and leant against the doorframe. She was going to say something, her eyes glazed over in passion.

Her whisper was soft. "I thought about it all night."

He peered into her wide brown orbs as they stood between the doorway. His tired eyes delivered his entire side of the conversation. _I've thought about it, too. I've thought about it too much. I've thought about your finger nails pressing tightly against my nipple. The soft hair at the nape of your neck on my fingertips. The shape of your calves when you pulled yourself up to sit along the bench. The heat of your body as your belly against my splayed fingers when the chair swivelled. And that's just the beginning of the infatuation. What haunts me is the sweetness of your breath mixing with mine as we panted. The way your back arched as you squirmed upon my desk, as though your tiny chest was offering itself to the heavens. Emma, I want to touch you. I want to put my hands on you and make you whimper._

"I'm talking about the cardigan," Emma informed, her eyes slowly lightening as Will snapped out of his daze that fixed his attention on Emma. It was always Emma. In his dreams, in his nightmares. In reality.

"I mean, it was just lying there all night at the front of the classroom. And you know what? The janitor never vacuums the front of the classroom, because he believes that teachers don't get spit balls pegged anywhere near their desks, which by the way, is a poor assumption."

Will laughed and placed his hand on the small of her back, his fingertips warm on the wool of her green pea coat. But she couldn't feel the texture, only the pressure.

Emma grinned. "You said you'd never laugh about my OCD."

"Trust me, I'm not."

AN: Thank you to everyone who reviews. I'm so glad that those who reviewed last week are enjoying this story. It's quite fluffy in comparison to other fics I've written, so it is very refreshing to write. Have a great weekend!


	3. Chapter 3

Over the next four days, Emma made trips back and forth to her apartment, filling boxes with items that she knew she would need. Clothes she would need for school, clothes she wanted Will to see her in as she whispered goodnight and headed for his bedroom. She labelled boxes to make it look like they had come from storage at Carl's, and she didn't think twice when she explained to Will that she had been thankful Carl hadn't been home when she went to pick up a few of the many boxes in his apartment.

The truth was that Carl only had one box. When Will playfully grilled Emma about why she had been evicted so suddenly, she sighed like a professional actress and recounted the fiery discussion she'd had with her landlord after she'd installed a brand new, clean stove, without permission. The story was true, a tale from the first week she had moved into her condo, but it was a lie nonetheless.

It was Thursday night when Emma turned her upper body to face Will's, his eyes trying to fight off exhaustion as the TV flashed sporadically, the signal hazy from the wind outside. It was the first day that year that the wind had picked up dramatically, and while it wasn't entirely common for tornadoes to whip through Lima, it had been predicted to happen within the next few days. They'd made a plan- if they were at home when it happened, they'd be safest in the bathtub or the closet.

"Will, do you mind if I ask you a personal question?" Emma enquired sweetly.

Will's eyes locked with Emma's, a pleasant grin gracing his features. "Sure."

Emma pulled her legs tighter beneath herself on the peach coloured couch.

"What was your wedding like?" Emma whispered with a hint of innocence in her tone.

Will raised an eyebrow, placing his feet up on the couch and hugging his knees to his chest. "What do you mean?"

Emma tried to make space for his long body on the couch, but he pulled back, always respectful of Emma.

"Well, was it big or small? Did you go on a honeymoon?" She paused for a moment, appreciating Will's quizzical stare of amusement. "Did you feel that thing you're supposed to feel?"

Will thought about his answer. "Well, it was big. And we went to Italy; I wanted to go to Spain but Terri hated when I spoke Spanish."

Emma shook her head and a sweet smile rested upon her lips. "I love when you speak Spanish."

The secret truth which Emma kept hidden in her lonely heart was that she dreamt of Will speaking Spanish to her; to her most secret places. When her infatuation with Will began years ago, she had searched online and selected a handful of Spanish films to buy. To her surprise and initial disgust, they were almost pornographic. When her crush became deeper and Will began gazing lustfully at Emma from the end of halls and through the glass walls of her office, she rewatched the Spanish films and understood the importance of their love scenes.

They stared at each other for a moment before Will continued.

"There wasn't a specific feeling that came with my wedding day. I think it was a mixture of nervousness and excitement. I'd known Terri for most of my life."

Emma nodded, her gaze lowering as she considered her own, short-lived relationship.

"I only knew Carl for ten months."

Will watched Emma, her finger and thumb toying with a thread on her pyjama pants. He'd barely asked her anything about her marriage, and he was aware of the fact that she didn't have many girlfriends.

"What was your wedding like?" Will asked caringly, always interested in what Emma had to say. It was the last thing he wanted to know about, her wedding day shared with another man, but Emma didn't seem to have anyone to share such stories with. And Will was her best friend.

"It was small," Emma whispered nonchalantly. "Just Carl and I. A celebrant. It was a tiny chapel in Vegas. We stayed at Caesar's palace."

When she had finished drearily recounting what was supposed to be the happiest day of her life, she turned her attention back to the TV, not looking for Will's sympathy.

The silence of their voices was deafening while a commercial played. He had to say something.

"I'm sure you looked stunning." Emma attempted to hide her grin as she took in his words.

"You always make a beautiful bride."

Her face fell as she glared at the TV. Always. Would she _always_ be cursed by failed marriages?

Will bit his lip in an attempt to not let another thought slip from his lips.

The wind was loud and Will was tired. He just wanted to curl up on the couch and go to sleep. First he had to dress it as they did every night, Emma always lending a hand. He only wished she'd lie down beside him when their fingers brushed and they wished each other a nice sleep.

They were quiet for a long time before Emma's sad whisper travelled to Will's ears.

"I didn't sleep with him on my wedding night, Will."

Will reached across for her hand, holding it gently in his as tears slowly pooled in her eyes.

"I felt like a terrible person."

Will shook his head, thinking of something to say that would make her feel better.

"Did you let him hold you?"

Emma blushed, considering how her confession would hurt Will.

"Yes."

Will sighed softly, squeezing her small hand comfortingly.

"Well I think that's much nicer than anything else that would or could have happened." Emma's pink tongue came out to nervously wet her lips before Will whispered, "Carl was a great man, Em. He loved you and I'm sure it didn't really matter to him."

When they decided it was late, Emma left for Will's bedroom without helping him make the bed. Will guessed from her teary tone when she whispered good night that she cried herself to sleep as he gazed at his living room roof, fighting off insomnia. His only comfort was that she was crying her tears into Will's pillow, her petite frame curled up in his bed.

"So how's it going living under the one roof?" Shannon asked Will at lunch the next day.

Will grinned as he bit into his peanut butter and jelly sandwich. He hadn't been eating cookies for lunch for a week. Emma _was_ a good influence. "It's fine. Why wouldn't it be?"

Shannon scoffed and chuckled, earning a confused glare from Will.

"What?"

"Nothing."

Will dropped his sandwich and laughed. "What?"

Shannon shook her head, shrugging her shoulders before she turned to see if Emma was stepping through the door. She turned back to Will, her tone jovial as she stated the obvious.

"Well you're both so...I don't know...nervous."

Will scoffed, denying Shannon's words. "We're not nervous. We're friends. Good friends."

"Keep telling yourself that, buddy."

Will picked up the other half of his sandwich. "There's nothing going on."

"I don't doubt that. You're both so uptight every time you're in the same room together. I'd hate to think what it's like living under the one roof."

Shannon's grin and her truthful words made Will consider his relationship with Emma.

"Well, I guess sometimes...But Emma's great. As a roommate I mean."

Shannon raised an eyebrow in consideration.

"What's the sleeping situation like?"

Will was about to complain about his constant back pain due to sleeping on the uncomfortable, too-small-for-his-large-body couch when Emma stepped through the door, her features bright and cheery.

"Hi Shannon." Emma greeted. "Will."

Will gushed slightly. "Hey Em-"

Shannon interrupted excitedly, as Emma sat down, taking out another PB & J for Will, which he smiled at gratefully and unwrapped while she took out her own. "Emma, Will and I just had this great idea! We were thinking that we should all go to Rosalita's roadhouse tonight!"

Will quickly swallowed his bite before her shook his head. "No, no-"

"Who's going?" Emma asked with a hint of excitement in her voice as she considered Shannon's proposal.

"Well, I'm going, and you'd be going. And Will would be there, too."

Will spoke up over the two women. "Shannon, I really don't think that place is Emma's idea of fun."

Emma's lips curled over the corner of her sandwich before she countered quietly. "Will, you have no idea what my idea of fun is."

His eyes widened slightly. Shannon was right- it was definitely tense between them.

"Great! I'll pick you both up at eight."

Shannon left with her single instruction for the night, and Will gazed at Emma, his features horribly confused.

"Shannon doesn't have many friends, Will. I think it would be nice of us to go out with her when she invites us," Emma suggested wisely. Will adored her for being considerate of others before taking her own comfort levels into account.

"But, Em, this place is a honky tonk bar."

Emma nodded softly before taking another bite, riveting her gaze from his. "I know that, Will. I grew up three towns over. I was nineteen once, too."

Will honestly didn't know what Emma would wear to Rosalita's that night. As far as he knew, she had two dress types- what Will labelled her work clothes, and her pyjama's. She had worn dresses on their dates last year, but she was always a well-dressed, conservative woman. He had no idea she could rock a pair of jeans.

His eyes widened when she stepped out of his bedroom door after taking her turn to dress. The black singlet top hugged her frame and the contours of her chest. It was low-cut, the deepest neckline that Will had ever seen Emma wear. And those jeans.

"Will?" Emma asked casually as she rested her hands on her hips, gazing at his chiselled features as he pretended to be engrossed in the seven thirty new bulletin.

"Yeah?"

"I was wondering if you had some kind of checker dress shirt that I could wear."

Will looked up at Emma, and then down to her jeans. Her legs were so long. Why hadn't she ever worn jeans before. He chided himself for thinking so crudely of her when she turned around to slide her black Mary Janes onto her feet. His hands itched to reach out and trace a fingertip along the curve of her behind.

Will bit his lip as he thought to answer her question.

"Umm, yeah, I'll have a look."

When he eventually found one, he cursed her luck that he did have one. Now he had to cover up her freckled shoulders.

He helped her to cuff the long sleeves around her skinny forearms, and when he was finished, he tied the shirt tails at her abdomen, resting his hands on her hips.

"There. Now you look like a cowgirl."

Emma giggled and thanked Will, revelling in the sensation of his hands on her hips. And with her southern drawl, she sounded like a cowgirl, too.

It was late when they arrived home, but they were both too drunk to notice. A few beers had accumulated to a whole lot for Will, and after Emma agreed to throw back more than one shot of tequila with the encouragement from an already intoxicated Will, they were both well and truly hammered.

They both stumbled up the stairs of Will apartment block and onto his floor, and with Emma trailing behind and losing her balance on the stairs more than once, Shannon had resulted to throwing Emma's small frame over her shoulder carrying Emma down the hall, earning a loud giggle from Will. When a sober Shannon set Emma down on her feet, Will wobbled as he attempted to fit the key to the McKinley auditorium his key into the lock of his apartment.

Shannon balanced the two drunks against one another as she took the keys from Will's hand, searching for the correct one.

"Hey..." Emma slurred, resting her head against the corner of the wall.

Will looked at Emma, his eyes glassy as his features washed over with a completely drunken seriousness. "We're pretty drunk."

Shannon rolled her eyes at their conversation, fitting a key which looked appropriate into the lock.

Emma squinted her eyes at Will, almost offended. "I'm not drunk!"

Will gazed at her, his features equally as serious, before they both burst into laughter.

Will wrapped an arm around Emma's shoulder as Shannon held the door open for them, but Emma stopped between the threshold. "Shannon...I need to apologise to you."

Shannon raised her eyebrows with a grin, waiting for Emma to continue.

"I know you wanted me to ride that bull, but it was just so dirrrrttty!" Emma raised her eyebrow in disgust and Shannon attempted to fight off laughter.

She shook her head and with a final, "Have fun you two!", she left them to the company of each other.

"My head is spinning."

Emma fell upon the couch softly, cradling her head in her hands as she closed her eyes.

"Em, get off my bed." Will's words were playful as he removed his shoes and then Emma's with great difficulty.

"No. Get your own."

Her giggle was infectious and Will clumsily rolled over the back of the couch to rest beside her, a knee pressing between hers as he fell partially on top of her, their alcoholic breaths mingling to both of their oblivion.

"I can't. You're sleepin' in it," Will slurred to Emma's amusement. They were as drunk as each other and suddenly, everything was hilarious.

Emma laughed loudly enjoying the weight of Will's body on hers so much that she wriggled on the couch to scoot under Will.

"That's funny. I'm sleepin' in your bed," Emma observed as Will's arm curled around her back and pressed her against him.

Will's smirk was wide, his eyes tired and lost as he asked, "Why's it so funny?"

"Because it just is." Emma's head lolled from side to side, a smile gracing her lips as her tongue peeked out to wet the flesh.

They both moved on the couch, trying to find a comfortable position. In their drunken, ignorant, and truthful states, that position seemed to be Emma completely beneath Will, his knees straddling her hips.

Will rested his body upon Emma's, every inch of his form pressing against hers. His face buried between her neck and shoulder and without either of them realising, in seconds his fingers were tangled in her red waves.

Will's whisper was comical and teasing against her cheek, and if she wasn't entirely intoxicated, she would have gone weak at the knees from the feel of his chin brushing her jaw.

"Miss Pillsbury?"

Emma sighed and responded playfully, "Yes, Mr Schuester?"

"Do you like sleeping in my bed?" Will garbled, feigning a pompous tone.

Emma giggled as Will pressed harder against her, trying to get comfortable on the small couch.

Emma swivelled her hips. "Do you like sleeping on the couch?"

Will's sigh was loud as his other arm scooped up under the back of Emma's head.

"Not when you're in my bed."

Emma giggled as Will flipped them over on the couch, easily resting her above him as she lied still, flat as a board, her body straight along the length of his.

He pressed his face into her neck again, and in a fleeting moment of sobriety, Will's face was pressed into her neck. Emma relaxed, resting her cheek against Will's chest as their toes brushed.

"Sometimes I pretend you're on the couch with me."

Emma's laughter ceased and she lifted her gaze to meet his. His smile was warm and honest and Emma sighed, turning her head for her other cheek to warm against Will's navy shirt.

"Sometimes I pretend you're in bed with me."

They rested together for a long while and eventually, Will pulled Emma up against him softly. With her face buried in his neck, he planted his warm lips upon the skin of her cheek. When she craned her neck, and lifted herself slightly for both of their convenience, she gave him more skin to adore. His kisses were light, drunk and clumsy, but Emma sighed contentedly.

She was the one to untie the dress shirt from its place around her waist, revealing more skin to Will. Freckled skin pink with arousal and excitement.

Even in his drunken state, Will didn't take things too far. He adored the angle of her collarbones with his lips and when his kisses travelled high across her sternum and to her necklace he whispered,

"Do you always wear this?"

Emma nodded, her brain foggy and her eyes trying to focus on Will's.

"I haven't taken it off since you put it on me."

When Emma's arms gave out from holding herself above him, she rested upon Will again, a deep sigh echoing around Will's living room.

"Do you...umm...Do you wear it in the shower?"

Emma's lips pressed again Will's neck, her intoxicated persona far more relaxed than Emma would ever be in a sober moment resembling this."Yes." She felt his hands travelling down her back, low and stopping at the waist band of her jeans. "It's the only thing I wear in the shower."

Will groaned and his fingers splayed to grasp the round cheeks of her behind in his hands. He was gentle and loving, but god, he had thought about touching her like this forever.

"Does that feel good?" he clumsily massaged her backside, barely touching her.

"Yeah, it feels really good."

When Emma sighed again and curled into him, Will considered it a smart idea to slip his hands into her jeans and caress her bare skin.

She was quiet for a long time and drunk Will smirked, proud of himself for reducing Emma to incoherency. But when he whispered her name and she didn't respond, he realised that his touch had had a very calming effect on her.

Not wanting to rouse her from the deep she had fallen into, Will gave into his own tiredness, too drunk to even consider moving her.

It was the vibration of Emma's cell phone on Will's coffee table that woke them both the next morning. Throughout the course of the night, Emma had slid from her place directly on top of Will to beside him on the couch, one of his arms resting across her abdomen and the other hanging over the side of the couch.

They both sat up quickly, searching for the item of rudeness.

"Hello?" Emma answered, her tone depressed due to the throbbing of her head.

"Emma- it's Carl."

She truthfully considered hanging up and telling Will it was a wrong number, but her head was too fuzzy to attempt to lie.

"Oh. Hi." She sounded less than thrilled, and judging by the look on Will's face, he had heard who was on the other end of the call. Will stood slowly, stepping out of the room with a hand pressed to his forehead.

"Hi." Carl was calm, sweet, but Emma couldn't ignore the fact that she felt incredibly ill. "I've stopped trying to drop off your books."

Emma paused for a moment, her mind a puzzle of thoughts and lies and hazy memories of touches that had taken place on the couch last night.

"I've been evicted."

"_You've_ been evicted?"

Emma nodded to herself, almost believing her own words. "Yes."

"Where are you staying? You should have told me! I've been driving over to your apartment almost every night!"

"I didn't want to bother you."Emma could hear Will's kettle whistling from the kitchen, making her head pound even harder. "I...I'm at Will's."

"I see." A long pause evolved and then Carl took a pin to the bubble of Emma's silence. "Emma, I'd like to drop off your books. I shouldn't have them anymore."

Emma sighed, "I know."

"I need to see you," Carl stated. "Do you think we could have dinner together tomorrow night?"

"I don't know, Carl." She couldn't even think about what was happening right now.

"Can I pick you up at seven?"

Will chose that moment to step back into the living room, his hair curly and his stumble dark as he held two mugs in his hand, trying to gain his bearings as his head swarmed.

"Please, Emma," Carl begged with grace, earning another sg from the redhead.

"Okay."

"I'll look up Will's address on the file at work."

She hung up, uncharacteristically tossing her phone onto the couch.

"That was Carl."

"Was it?" Will asked, feigning a nonchalant attitude as he placed a cup of tea down for Emma.

"He wants to drop off some of my stuff tomorrow night." Emma began, saving the worst for last. "And then we're going to dinner."

"Oh."

Even hung over, Will knew he should have felt threatened. Throughout the course for the day, as his mind cleared and he gained back the ability to swallow food, his throat tightened in anxiety.

That night Will and Emma decided to go for a walk, to clear their minds and ease the tension that had settled when they remembered just how they had shared the couch the night before.

Pizza was the chosen meal, and as they stepped beside each other in the direction of the Lima Pizzeria, Will started. "Em, about last night..."

"It's okay, Will." She scoffed lightly, her cheeks reddening in embarrassment. "We were both pretty drunk."

Will nodded in agreement, dismissing the thought that he would do it again in a heartbeat. "Yeah, we were." Emma was quiet, and so Will continued. "I just don't want it to affect anything."

"It won't," Emma professed a little too certainly.

They continued down the path for at least four houses before Emma spoke up."I've been looking for somewhere else to stay."

Hurt flashed across Will's eyes and he stopped walking. "Don't do that."

Emma turned to meet his gaze.

"It was only supposed to be one night, Will."

Will shook his head, his forehead wrinkling in frustration.

"I don't care."He forced the depression from his features and whispered, "I like having you around, Em." His fingers reached out and lace with hers when the words left his lips.

That night when they walked down Main Street, no one would have known they weren't sharing the same bed.

Will was sitting on the couch trying to enjoy the Sunday evening line up of Liza Minnelli classics while Emma perfectly applied her makeup in the bathroom mirror.

It was like she was teasing him. The red dress she had on was conservative, yet incredibly sexy. Everything about her was sexy. And beautiful. And she was just so _smart_.

From his position on the far end of the couch, he had a perfect line of sight. When she had glanced down at her chest earlier, her had turned his attention back to the television, his face flushed.

She looked stunning, but more than anything, he wanted her to take off her makeup and get out of that darn dress and sit beside him on the couch in her pyjama's as they watched _Cabaret_. Again.

When Will caught Emma's gaze through the reflection of the bathroom mirror, Emma looked at Will curiously, until one of them glanced away sheepishly.

Carl rang the door bell at seven, like he said he would, and Will answered, his gaze dropping to the cardboard box at his feet.

"Hey, Carl." Carl nodded with a small smile before Will chuckled, "One box. Couldn't your convertible fit anything else?"

Carl raised his eyebrows in confusion.

"There was only-"

"Ready to go?" Emma interrupted, her heels clicking across the kitchen floor.

"It's windy out, Em," Carl stated. "Do you think maybe you should bring a spare pair of clothes in case we have to rush back to my place if there's a tornado warning?"

Will bit his tongue, holding back a scoff. Carl was forward to say the least.

When they left, Will checked the clock every twenty minutes. Every forty minutes, the wind seemed to get worse and worse. When it was after ten and Emma wasn't home, Will began to worry. There were broken tree branches outside and his living room lights were flickering.

Emma was safe, but Will was unaware and incredibly nervous when the warning flashed across his TV screen in the middle of _New York, New York_.

"I think you should come back to my place, Em. It's safe there," Carl whispered as they drove away from the restaurant, Carl's fancy car manoeuvring it's way across town with ease as the wind belted against the windows.

She knew Carl had a basement, always cautious and prepared for such situations, but Emma couldn't bear the thought that Will would be home alone, standing in the small closet or sitting in the bathtub by himself.

"No, Carl. I would prefer if you would take me back home."

"To Will's?"Carl asked with a hint of annoyance.

"Yes."

When she arrived, the wind was strong and almost knocked her over. It blew her dress up above her thighs, but she payed it no attention as she raced up the stairs of Will's apartment block.

The door swung open before Emma could knock with a tense fist, and Will was dragging her down the hallway, into his bedroom and locking the closet door behind them.

It was dark and frightening and the wind howled as Wills hand tightened its grasp on Emma's.

"Watch your head, there's a rack," Will noted as he made sure the door was closed as best it could be.

Emma's whisper was soft, imitating Will's serious tone, "Where are all of the clothes on this side?"

"In Florida with Terri."

Emma realised her mistake, shaking her head at herself in the darkness.

"Oh, gosh. I'm so sorry, Will."

There was a long pause while they waited, listening to the sounds of the dangerous winds.

"Did you have a nice night, Em?" Will whispered in the darkness, and Emma couldn't see a thing.

"Umm...it was okay."

"Just okay?" Will asked, a grin flashing across his features as Emma removed her coat.

"Yes." Emma gently placed her coat on the floor and attempted to adjust her eyes to the darkness. She was having no such luck. "Where are you? I can't see you..."

"I'm here." When Will reached out for Emma, his hand met the curve of her waist. Emma flinched, but Will only held on tighter.

She felt like she was blindfolded, permissible only to the sensation of touch. Will's touch. On her waist.

She could feel him moving closer, could hear his laboured breaths and feel the warmth they emitted on her cheeks. On her lips.

"I love this dress, Em." His fingertips caressed the soft fabric covering her hips, and as his thumb traced the line of her hipbone, travelling over the ridge of her panties hidden beneath her dress.

"You can't see it," Emma whispered, comforted by his closeness and the distraction from the howls from outside.

He felt her shake beneath his palm. He knew she was petrified of tornadoes. She had recounted her horror story of experiencing a tornado in Virginia when she was only young. "I've seen it before," Will whispered. "Just like I've seen that light in your eyes that flares when you're happy. Sometimes I can't see it, but I never forget it's there."

Emma's arms left her sides and her hands travelled up to rest on his biceps. He was so strong.

"You're amazing, Em." She shivered in trepidation, her frightened thoughts fleeing as she thought about everything she wanted.

"Will, I..." She stuttered, trying to form the words she was desperate to confess. "I..."

"Yes?" Will asked quietly, prompting his best friend.

"Sometimes I want so much more."

Will sighed deeply, his forehead coming to rest against hers

"I know you do." His lips pressed softly upon each of her eyelids as her breathing picked up.

His palm travelled to rest on her jaw, her skin hot when he said, "Can I ask you a personal question, Em?"

Emma smirked, remembering her own question nights ago that began the same way.

"Yes."

"You liked what we did the other night on the couch, right?"

Emma nodded against Will's palm, rejoicing in the delicate way his thumb traced the curve of her cheekbone.

"Did you like when I held you like this, Em?"

His hand travelled around her waist to splay his fingers across her back.

She nodded leisurely.

"And when I touched you like this?"

His hand skimmed lower, running slowly over the curve of her behind before it flattened and softly gripped her cotton covered flesh.

She pressed herself into him, but Will pulled back.

His lips found the smooth skin of her forehead, placing a warm kiss there.

"We should take this slowly," Will whispered to Emma, appreciating the way her hips shifted to allow Will more of her body to caress.

Emma showed no response for a long moment until she nodded again, almost reluctant.

Thirty two was a long time to go without touch. Without someone's hands on you, making you feel good. Really good. Another person's lips warm and hot and wet.

"Would you like me to try something, Em?"

She didn't nod or shake her head, say yes or no.

"What do you mean, Will?"

His hand left her backside and grasped her fingers in his, gently pulling her down to sit beside him on the floor.

"Is there something you'd like me- something we could do together that you want?"

She was silent and he could just sense everything she wanted and was too afraid to ask for.

His lips came to rest upon the shell of her ear as his fingers played with hers.

"Something so much more..." He whispered softly, his breath warm on her skin.

Emma gasped and tightened her hold on Will's hand.

Their fingers were locked together, but Emma separated them slowly. She lifted Will's hand, feeling his long, soft fingers in the darkness.

Her thigh was warm against the rough pads of Will's fingertips when she held his hand against her flesh. Oh God. The tightening of his pants. The blush spreading across her freckled chest.

Emma drew his palm higher over her skin and then released her hold, no longer guiding as her eyes slipped closed and her head fell back against the wall of the closet. Her arms fell against her sides, and she felt the hem of her dress tickling her thighs as his hand rested beneath, covered by red material.

Emma waited while Will waited. He knew deep down she was like this. Until now, he had only dreamt about it.

His fingertips were warm against the silk of her panties and Emma gasped sharply.

The silk was damp, and while Will wanted to feel her moisture on his naked fingertips, he thought it best that he didn't take things too far. She deserved better, but she desired this. And he would gladly give it to her.

His fingers worked slowly at first, stroking warm satin. Will wondered what colour they were as his middle finger trailed a long line between her folds. Were her panties red to match her dress? _God_, her thighs were _quivering_ and he'd barely started.

Emma bit her lip in the darkness, barely moving until Will's thumb brushed her bundles of nerves. Emma squirmed delightfully, whimpering softly and causing Will to swallow as her tuned his body to get more comfortable; to make it easier to reach beneath her dress to get her off.

She began to pant as her fists pressed into the carpet of Will's closet, her hips rising up off the floor.

The burning sensation was _so good_. Would it always feel like this?

Will wondered if he should kiss her. Would it be too much? Make her nervous when she was so obviously enjoying herself?

He decided to take the risk.

His lips slanted across Emma's as her lips quivered with tension.

His thumb pressed tightly against her, drawing circles around her nub. Her panties were so wet.

When Will's tongue slipped in next to Emma's, she whimpered, her tongue fluttering madly as his fingers worked quickly, helping Emma to approach her orgasm.

Emma shuddered madly when the spasms gripped her body. Will's fingers stopped as she came down from her high, but as ecstasy warmed her bones, his palm cupped her core, pressing against her and caressing softly.

Last week she'd run away from her ex-husband, and there she was a week later with her roommate's hand between her legs on the floor of his closet.

The wind had stopped, at least for now.

AN: This is a long chapter, and I really hope you enjoyed it! I would love to read your thoughts! Thanks so much to everyone who reads and reviews!


	4. Chapter 4

His fingertips were warm against her thigh as Emma drew in a breath that wasn't quite enough.

Her head was spinning and the wind was howling just as loudly as it was five minutes ago when Will's fingers were tracing circles on her sensitive skin. Still, she needed the air from the pit of her lungs.

"You okay, Em?"

Her breathing was heavy, warming the space between them as their shoulders pressed together uncomfortably.

"Yeah...Just um...Just give me...a second."

Will slowly pulled his hand from beneath Emma's dress and her thigh twitched as the back of his knuckles grazed her skin upon retreat. She had been freezing earlier in the restaurant, cursing herself for not bringing a coat, and now there was moisture resting above her upper lip caused by the heat Will had instigated. No, the heat they had _both_ instigated.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Will asked softly, his hands in his lap.

"Yeah. I'm fine."

Emma was deeply embarrassed and felt completely vulnerable. She'd never done anything like this before, never been touched so intimately with purpose. Her own fingers didn't even know herself, yet her body cried out, knowing what she wanted, her only knowledge that which came from those Spanish romance films she had purchased with Will in mind. Everything came back to Will.

It would be a cliché to describe the silence as deafening, but there in the closet it certainly was. And so, it was a comfort that the description of uncomfortable quietness was in fact a cliché, a commonality for others and not simply Will Schuester and Emma Pillsbury.

"Are you okay?" Emma questioned politely, her eyes drifting down to her heels. She was fully dressed. _God_, Emma thought. This was low. And yet, she wasn't suffocated by guilt and shame. Her only concerns were how Will now perceived her to be.

Will chuckled nervously, and judging by that alone, Emma's embarrassment slowly lifted. Inner slut contemplated the situation. Perhaps Will thought what had happened was attractive; sexy, even.

"Yeah, I'm all good."

When the words tumbled from his lips, Emma heard the soft bang of Will's head against the wall of the cupboard.

Moments passed without conversation. It was awkward, but the wind was still wild. Just as they had been minutes before.

Will sighed and Emma was reminded of a time they sat on the McKinley auditorium stage after the rocky horror incident, both cool enough to give reason to their performance days before. The only difference was that Emma's chest was still heaving with the affects of her orgasm. "I'm sorry, Emma. I mean, if that wasn't what you wanted and we just rushed into something like that..."

Emma tried once again to inhale as much air as she could. Her legs still felt like jell-o. "No. I was ready. Just for that, though. I um, I don't think I can handle anything else just yet."

He didn't know what to say, how to ask her if she was really okay, so he bit his tongue and waited until he had something less confronting to ask. But the silence whipped his cheek and woke him up from the haze Emma's gorgeous release had also bought him.

"I don't want this to be awkward between us," Will breathed, admitting to the thought for both of them.

A single tear slipped down Emma's cheek before she had time to realize that it had hung tiredly from her long lashes.

"I know," she gasped softly, her body still. "I don't like this feeling of not knowing what to say to you. But, I don't think we can help it, Will."

"We can," Will whispered defiantly, his lips parting, preparing to confess. "I need to tell you something and I don't want you to run right out of this closet, okay?"

Emma giggled. "I won't."

"Good." Will drew in a breath, searching for memories of his past pain to share with Emma. This would be a curse or a blessing. Black or white magic. "I really missed you when you were married, Em. I couldn't stop thinking about you."

It took a moment for Emma to process his truthful tone, and then another to dissect his troubling words. She glanced down to guess where their hands rested between them in the darkness, and ever so slowly, Emma linked her fingers with his.

_Courage, Will. It's yours. _

"What were you thinking about?"Emma whispered sweetly, her tone encouraging as she sensed Will's heartache tenfold.

"I was thinking about everything that makes you so wonderful. I was so jealous that Carl was the one who got to listen to your voice, and in turn we were barely speaking back then. I couldn't get certain images out of my mind, really specific ones."

"Like what?" Emma tried, listening intently and then realising her mistake. He was heartbroken and the visions could have been incredibly menacing. "I'm sorry, maybe that's too personal."

"No, no. It's not too personal," Will assured Emma in a rush before he continued. "Every time my head would hit the pillow at night or every time I got in the car- whenever I had a moment to myself, really...I just saw you everywhere. You were laughing a lot, happy. You were never upset." And then, as though it mattered, Will added, "Carl was never there, every time I saw you."

But it did matter. It mattered more than anything to Emma. Will didn't dislike Carl, he just adored Emma. Will didn't focus on what Carl had, as though Emma was a prize. Rather, Emma was everywhere, alone and waiting for a friend and lover to laugh and cry with.

"I thought about you, too," Emma whispered without consideration.

Wills face lit up, yet the closet remained dark. "Yeah?"

Her body relaxed and fell against Will's. After a moment, he felt a nod against his shoulder.

"I remembered how nicely our hands fit together. I tried not to compare Carl to you, that wouldn't have been fair to him when he was so lovely." After her first sentence, Will was lost in wonderment. Their hands really did fit together nicely. He had barely noticed hers in his, yet there was something different about the way he flexed his fingers. He was gentler with his hand in hers. She made him a better person. When Emma whispered, "I couldn't help it", Will raced back in his mind to remember her last words.

Oh. Comparisons. That's what she was saying. Will knew about those. He could remember a time when his selfish wife would nag about their financial troubles late at night after Will got home from scrubbing desks with a sweet redhead who spoke of her admiration for the man in coveralls while they worked together after hours.

"Em..."

"I used to cuddle with Carl a lot, but every time his arms wrapped around me, I just didn't feel safe enough. All I felt was guilt, because I knew that touch was the furthest it was going to go. I was never nervous or shaking in his arms because I wasn't going to let anything happen."

Emma words were honest, and Will knew that, despite her experience with intimacy, she longed for something that she didn't know how to share. He just wished she wasn't so scared.

"I remembered how your arms felt." She traced her fingers up his arm and rested her palm over his bicep. Will tried to remember how she felt in his arms, but he couldn't. He could see images of them dancing to Lionel Richie in his living room, her body pressed against his. He had banished the feeling, and now he craved it.

Emma's tone turned into a whisper, as though she were only confessing the next secret to herself. "I don't like men with too many muscles, but Carl never made me hot like you do."

Will's eyes widened. Emma's face flushed pink.

"I mean, not hot, gosh, I-

Will shook his head, bringing his arm around to hold her against him, to press her shoulder tighter against his.

"It's okay, Em."

"I just..." she swallowed harshly. He wanted to prompt her, but he sensed her struggle. There was a moment, and then his knees felt weak. "You make me shake, Will."

He closed his eyes and turned his face. He couldn't help but to breathe her in. Her perfume. Her shampoo. Her.

"How many times do you think you can fall in love with someone?"Will gripped Emma's hand tighter.

Emma contemplated his question and then she turned her face to meet Will's, their noses brushing as she whispered her reply. "I think as many times as your body can bear."

Silence.

"How many times can you bear?" Will exhaled.

She could taste his breath on her parted lips. _God, _she wanted to feel his tongue sliding against hers.

"I have no idea."

With a tilt of his head his lips pressed against hers and moved with the question. "Can I teach you?"

Emma pulled away slowly and Will wondered if it was all over before she hiked up her dress in the darkness and climbed into Wills lap. In seconds, her lips had found their home against his again. And then there was her simple whisper of permission against his lips. "Yes."

They hadn't noticed, but sometime between when their fingers had intertwined and Emma's hand had travelled over Will's bicep, the wind had slowed and the light in the hallway had flickered in solitude.

Their lips parted and moulded together, their flesh warm with nervousness as the tip of their tongues brushed slowly and languorously together, as though they had all the time in the world. And they did. They were stuck in a closet in a windstorm. And it was magnificent.

When Will's legs began to cramp from the small space and they broke apart to breathe, Emma payed attention to her surroundings.

"The wind stopped."

Now what were they going to do? Will wondered. Say goodnight and head for the couch and bed alone?

Apparently, Emma had already contemplated the same thing.

"I've never been to bed with a man."

Will was shocked by her whisper and contemplative tone. Was this actually going to happen?

"Take me to bed."

Yes, it was.

Will tried to stand up in the closet with Emma's legs around his waist, but when he stumbled out of the closet door, Will's head meeting the bar of the coat rack.

Their laughter was loud, but with the wind howling faintly, a danger in the distance, their voices were almost muted. Will made his way to the bed, finding his feet as Emma palms cupped the back of his neck reassuringly.

Emma cast her gaze over Will's shoulder towards the window. Branches were swaying, naked of leaves and all Emma could feel was the sensation of Will's warm palms on her lower back, holding her to him. She was so glad she hadn't gone to Carl's. Everything could have changed.

Emma's legs unwrapped from around Will's waist before he reached the bed, and she sunk down to the edge of the bed with her fingers wrapped around his wrist for balance.

"I've got you," Will whispered softly as Emma bent down to unbuckle her stiletto, allowing Will to help her with the other as their gazes met.

The hall light flickered madly, casting a glow into the bedroom, but once Emma's shoes were off, their stare broke. Emma missed it, something that she had only had for a moment. She didn't want to live without that look, Will's attention. Her whole life she had been the girl in the background, and now she was on a stage under blinding yellow lights. As she sat there in the darkness, she realised she would never let that go. A rush, a touch, a special intimacy.

After placing her shoes at the base of the bed, Will climbed in on the opposite side to the edge Emma was sitting on.

She didn't move a muscle, her gaze cast outside as a million thoughts raced through her mind.

"Will, I'm going to take my dress off. I can't sleep in it."

Will curled his tongue in his mouth in trepidation. She was probably incredibly uncomfortable.

"I think I can feel your pyjama's under my pillow. If not there's a lump in the mattress sticking in my ear," Will mused, watching her finger reach out to unzip her dress.

When Emma's fingers curled around the material and peeled it from her shoulders, she dragged it down slowly. Down to reveal more skin. Down. Down. Down.

When she turned slightly, Will's gaze ran from adoring her gorgeous body and fell to the clothes in his hands. He pulled them out and examines the material. "Yep, they're the only pair of pants you own."

Will reached out to hand them to her, but she was already climbing into bed, clad only in her soft pink slip that ended at her thighs. And panties, he hoped. Did he really hope that? Yes, he told himself, you hope she's wearing panties. In fact, you wish she was wearing ski pants and a snow jacket.

He was convinced until her bare knee brushed his, and then he hated the thought that she was so far away.

"Come closer," Will whispered, and she did, falling right into his hold.

"I want to make you shake," he breathed in her ear and she giggled, pressing her shoulder blades into his chest.

"Goodnight, Will."

His lips rested lightly over Emma's pulse point and instead of a whisper of goodnight, his flesh wetly warmed Emma's hot skin as he kissed her lightly, the flick of his tongue and the howl of the wind sending Emma into a dream more adventurous than Dorothy Gale's.

When Will woke the next morning, the wind was loud and Emma was gone.

It took a second for Will to realise that it was Monday and Emma had an early meeting with another guidance counsellor from a nearby middle school, an older lady Emma had known for years. The woman would have picked Emma up at eight. It was now eight-thirty and school started in twenty-three minutes.

He sat up quickly, pressing his palms into the pillows behind him when his palms crushed paper upon her pillow. A post-it.

_I found candles before I left this morning and placed them on the bathroom counter just in case we need them. You know, in case of another warning. _

There was another beneath it.

_And while I did enjoy the darkness last night, I promise I'll be home to help you light them._

Another beneath it.

_You're a wonderful teacher. I learnt so much last night, but now I think I'm ready to teach you._

Will adored her notes, and he wanted to write her one, too. Something sweet to make her smile.

He thought about it all day, from the moment he stepped into his first class until lunch when he sped home to pick up a Spanish textbook he needed to return to the other Spanish teacher who was moving to Vancouver that afternoon.

Emma's cell buzzed on the kitchen counter as he stepped into the living room. She must have forgotten it that morning.

When Will answered to take a message, he knew exactly what to write on the post-it.

Emma spent the entire day at Allen County Middle School, meeting the students who presented themselves with certain needs that Emma would be overseeing in their transition to high school. She didn't hear or see from Will all day, but when she arrived home before Will, a note was waiting for her on the kitchen counter, right next to the tea pot. She didn't read it for a few minutes, too preoccupied with the power outage and attempting to light the stove the old fashioned way to boil the tea pot.

She glanced over at the note, straining to read it as the kitchen light flickered in a battle with the stubborn winds.

_Your landlord called your cell when you were out. I took a message. _

Emma's heart pounded beneath her ribcage and her body flushed with shock. Just like she had left her notes for Will that morning, there were others stuck beneath the top one. She pealed the first off to read the second.

_He wanted to know if your hot water system was affected by the storm, and if so, he would fix it for you and upgrade it free of charge because, even though you bought that stove without asking him years ago, you're still his number one tenant. _

She pealed the second one off to read the third.

_I know that you weren't evicted._

Her fingers shook as she pinched the paper to get to the next.

_Come and go as you please, but never leave me._

With an arrow next to the words, Emma drew her gaze in the direction the arrow pointed. Above the note were a set of metallic blue keys, splayed perfectly. They were periwinkle.

And also engraved.

Will's front door key, engraved with the letter 'E'.

A small key, perhaps to the locks of the windows. Engraved with the letter 'M'.

A larger key, one Emma recognised as the key to the main door of Will's floor of the apartment complex. Engraved with the letter 'M'.

And a key Emma had never seen before, engraved with the letter 'A'.

A branch slammed against the kitchen window, causing Emma to jump and the lights to blink off in defeat.

Emma grasped the matchbox in her palm and made her way towards the bathroom; towards the candles she knew they would need that night.

And before Will arrived, she'd light one just for herself.

AN: I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter and I'm sorry I haven't filled a prompt this week, but life has been very hectic. To those who have left prompts, thank you very much and I hope to get around to filling one soon! Thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

"I'm glad you're here with me," Emma whispered as they settled into the empty tub, their knees bent awkwardly as Emma sat between Will's long legs.

The orange flames of the candles swayed mercilessly, and Emma hoped they would stay alight.

She felt horrible. She was liar and he knew it. And there they were, sitting in a tub together, Emma petrified and in desperate need of Will's support. She hated how easily he could forgive, and wished she could do the same.

Her chest was tight with anxiety. Her arms felt heavy. All she wanted was to fall asleep in her own bed. This was all too much.

"Emma." His tone was lined with strength, powerful enough to pull her out of a panic attack. Or at least to help her climb away from problems she had created herself. If only he knew what a struggle it was to just _be_ her.

"Yes?" she whispered softly, awaiting his demand for an explanation. She was just like his crazy ex-wife.

"It's okay."

She sighed. Two words and she felt the lump in her throat disappear. She found him to be so calming. _God_, she thought. _He would make a wonderful father._

And then Will whispered softly, "Do you want to tell me what happened?"

With her back to Will, Emma told him everything, starting at the beginning and finishing with the keys on his counter. She explained her reasons for avoiding Carl, and she barred her emotions for Will's understanding. As the wind shook the glass of the bathroom window on the opposite side of the room, the only think she didn't mention was how wonderful it had all felt; how perfect and right everything had seemed once she had been swept up by her own lie.

When she was finished, Will only had one question.

"Do you think you'll use the keys, Em?"

She was quiet, and Will continued.

"I'd really like you to use them whenever you want. For any reason at all."

If only he really knew how lonely she was. How desperate she was to hold someone and to feel needed. Would that feeling go away if she slept with Will? Would sex make her feel needed? She was more than willing to try. But what if it didn't work? What if she still felt the same after sex, if that feeling of numbness still existed? Then there would be no hope.

With the space between her back and his chest definite, his knees bent beside her thighs as he sat behind her in the tub, she felt the tears begin to pool in her eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Will." The words left her lips in a gasp, and immediately, his arm wrapped around her chest to pull her back against him. Her back against his chest. Comfort was so very special.

He whispered softly how important she was. How amazing she made other people feel and that he knew she was missing something in her life because he was missing the exact same thing.

Her head felt heavy, and so without thought or worry or Emma analysing the pros and cons of her actions, her head fell to rest between Will's shoulder and neck. And it felt _really _good.

He kissed her jaw when her forehead pressed against his cheek. He breathed her in. He could scent the sweetness of her breath. He wanted to kiss her, to taste her and feel his tongue lapping against hers. He remembered how well she kissed, how generous she was in the rare moments she would allow her body what it wanted, to let him devour her mouth. It had made her chest ache and her insides twist in delight. He wanted that again.

But she began to cry, so softly.

"Are you okay, Em?"

"Umm...I'm getting there." And that was the truth. She was working on it trying so hard to help herself. "I've been seeing my therapist for a while now, and she's really helping me. It's still hard, though."

He hated to think it, but he knew that loving Emma Pillsbury was never going to be easy. Regardless of how many hours of therapy she sat through, she would always be a nervous woman. She wasn't as simple as she appeared and he just knew that there was more depth to her, that her mind was far more alert to topics her librarian wardrobe refuted to outsiders. Her perception was heightened, and Will loved her endlessly.

Beneath the loud crashing of the wind were the tiny breaths emitting from Emma, rushed pants which Will hated to hear in this situation. He wanted to take care of her the way she had always taken care of him. He wanted to make her feel safe, just as she had the other night when she chose Will over Carl, a tiny closet over a secure basement.

"I bet this storm doesn't help," Will added, listening to the wind. He couldn't turn and glance out the window when Emma's forehead was resting on his cheek. No, this was the moment he had been waiting for. Even in her sorrow, she appeared so radiant.

"No. No it doesn't," she whispered softly, stretching her legs out to rest beside Will's.

"Does it help to be with other people, Em?" Will asked as he looked down to watch his finger trace the seam of his jeans across his thigh in nervousness.

"Sometimes." It was a difficult question. "It's a distraction from having to deal with things like this."

"Do you like to be alone?" Will asked quietly, unsure of which answer he wanted to hear.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"It's safe."

When Emma's head turned with the rest of her body in an attempt to make herself more comfortable in Will's embrace, his lips fell on the velvety skin of her neck. She paused. He paused. And then the assault began.

One kiss on her neck turned into four on her throat, and soon his lips were parted and his mouth was making love to her neck. That night, her neck was the only place his mouth explored, and he worshipped every moment spent adoring her bare skin exposed to him.

Will's hands found Emma's waist as she settled into him, her back tight against his chest, the layers of clothes they wore keeping them warm and their minds active. His palms were warm as his fingers softly held her against him. He was such a gentleman, until Emma began to squirm beneath his kisses.

The moment she moved, he was just a man who loved and respected her. There were no rules, only intimacy.

"Emma..." Will crooned with a whisper. "I want to be near you always."

Her mind was far, far away in a dream land only her anti-anxiety medication had taken her to.

Without thinking, in a soft tone she replied, "Thank you."

His fingers itched as they traced along the line of Emma's cardigan at her waist, where her cream cardigan met her orange skirt. He guessed she was wearing a blouse beneath, but it didn't matter. He wouldn't cross that line. He couldn't make Emma feel uncomfortable.

But _God_, she was there, in Will's arms, and he wanted her. The need was insatiable. He was confused as to what it was that he wanted, but his fingers had a mentality of their own as they drew lines up and up and up. Two index fingers tracing the identical seams that ran over Emma's cardigan on either side of the single row of buttons in the middle. Just two fingers running over her belly, between her breasts and to her sternum, setting her body on fire. They traced back down slowly, adding the slightest bit of pressure with his fingertips. Her chest heaved. She wanted this, too. God, she probably wanted this _so_ badly.

"Will?"

"Yes?" he spoke as her palms flattened over each of his thighs, dragging up and down as his tracing fingers paused and his palms pressed flat against her sternum.

"I'm falling in love with you all over again."

Her words were laced with sweetness that told their story. A repressed loved that was instructed to turn into friendship. Three years of wanting and imagining, going to bed alone even if there was a warm body beside each of them at different times.

They had been driven by adoration for each other but they were also incredibly passionate. They were teachers; they had to show emotion, a definite drive. It was hard to pretend for the better part of three years that they didn't _crave _more_._ The things Will wanted to do to Emma would have had him in Dr Shane's chair for a decade. And Emma was already in the chair.

And now Emma was sitting between his legs, falling in love with him.

Will couldn't stop the chocked groan that escaped from his throat, sending a shockwave through Emma's veins. Something had to happen now. His hands were _there_, above her breasts. _Touch me_, she silently begged.

He moans in her ear and she feels a shock run through her. _Oh God_, his hands were moving. Lower, down over her cardigan. Each hand settling over a breast.

"It feels better this time, doesn't it?" he whispered in her ear, his lips so close to the shell of her ear. This was the real storm.

"Yes."

In Will's opinion, this was better than sex. Granted he could have very well forgotten what sex felt like after being celibate for eight months, but this...this was divine. His bare hands were resting upon Emma's cotton clad breasts. They were fully clothed, incredibly intimate, and best of all, Will could actually think straight. If she was naked and they were preparing to fuck for the first time, his mind would have been a scrambled mess with the maturity of a sixteen year old.

Now he wasn't nervous at all. Now it was Emma and Will. And he could feel her. The curve of her tiny breasts; how wonderful the light weight of them felt in his hands. Her body was so warm; hot.

He had to tell her how he felt.

"I enjoy loving you when I'm allowed to."

"_Oh, Will_." She could feel the blush on her cheeks as she gushed at Will's words. He was right- the guilt was gone. It had vanished and replaced itself with the pressure between Emma's legs, this feeling of fullness.

That night, in the bathtub, they touched. And it was almost as wonderful as an orgasm. Will's palms traced Emma's thighs and hips and teased her nipples through layers of clothes. Emma reached her hand behind to grasp Will's curls as he groped her chest softly. At one point, they had almost taken things too far. When their breathing had turned heavy with delight, Emma had pressed her behind into Will's arousal, and he had pushed forward. An accident that was so good, and right, and hot.

But she was so tired and relaxed and there was still that nagging in the back of her mind that she couldn't banish, so Emma literally didn't press any further. Instead, she grasped Will's fingers in hers, pressing both of their hands against her abdomen.

Craning her head back, the words left her lips with a tone of serious contemplation. "While it would be romantic, I don't want to lose my virginity in your empty bath tub during a hurricane warning."

Will smiled and shifted as a branch fell from the heavens and slammed against the window. Still, the flame on the counter swayed with an orange glow. They were safe in the tub.

"I don't want to consummate our relationship in my bathtub during a hurricane warning."

Still, they both imagined it. Her naked belly pressed against his strong abdominal muscles. Their legs moving them towards an ecstasy that would leave them exhausted.

"We aren't ready yet." The words were whispered by Will so carefully that Emma's body seemed to shut down in relief. Her sigh was recognisable, coated in gratification.

As his arms wrapped tightly around her and the wind got louder, darker, scarier, Emma felt so incredibly safe.

This was what she needed.

AN: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed and read this story. This was the last chapter, and I have enjoyed writing this little fic. I understand that some may be disappointed that this didn't end with them getting down and dirty, but I think we take the sex scenes for granted sometimes, and it gets over done. I didn't want to bore people with just another sex scene. I write way too many of those!

Also, to the anon who left the long prompt in the ask box on tumblr, thank you very much. I really only have time to fill small prompts at the moment, but that sounded like a great idea, so I say pass it on to another author, because I would love, love, love to read it! Thanks for asking, though!


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